Sherlock Should Be So Lucky
by Cilla Chez
Summary: Elizabeth, the daughter of an ex-CIA head, has fallen for Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock seems to be enticed as well and proposes, but will their relationship be over due to the callous nature of Sherlock?


I looked up and was startled for a moment, but only a moment. It was always a tiny surprise when I looked up and saw with whom I was eating. I was seeing the great Sherlock Homes. If you had asked me if I would be seeing such a man a year ago, you would surely have been laughed at. Sherlock is so… words seem to escape me. He is one of the few men who the only fitting description of them is their name. Any attempt would be putting him in a box and as I have learned, he hates thinking or being in a box, square, or rectangular shape. I wonder what he would think about triangles?

I watched his eyes comb over our surroundings, taking in every little detail. We always sat in comfortable silence as we ate. He could never tell, but I always ate a bit faster when we were together.

"Do you want to get married?"

I attempted to comprehend what he had just said. "What?"

He nonchalantly pulled out a ring and placed it in front of me, but of course, everything he did appeared to be nonchalant. He gave me an exasperated look. Not unusual either.

"Would you marry me?"

Sherlock has never been one to dice words. Blunt, to the point for the most part. The next words shocked him as they rolled out of my mouth. They shocked me as well.

"Why?"

"Pardon?" I saw his eyebrows raise the same way they did in every case he accepted.

"I need to know why you're asking me."

He still appeared perplexed which to be honest, I always thought was cute, but he delivered the next lecture with his annoying, grandiose fashion.

"The average couple dates from 6 to 12 months before getting engaged. Most of the women in 10 to 12 months are known to end things if they think things are going nowhere. We have been seeing each other for 10 months to the day and this appears to be the ideal time for such an event to occur without any problems arising that would lead to you discontinuing our relationship. So I will ask again and not a fourth time. Will you marry me?"

It was times like this I wondered how we could be together at all. My psycho ex-CIA father had ensured a tortuous childhood leading to a skill in deduction which could match the great consulting detective. However, I found it difficult to understand why he was so cold. Suppose I could become as detached as he was. I would be better than him I know, but with my hot head, there was little chance.

"That's not good enough."

There goes the lifting of the eyebrows.

"You compiled data? Relationship, romantic or otherwise, cannot be put together in a chart. Marriage is an exclusive and intimate relationship, which one must actively choose. You make it sound like you're deciding between two brands of toothpaste."

"This was a far easier decision," he stated matter-of-factly. "I take great care when making decisions about my dental hygiene."

I stood up and left the restaurant. If I had less class, I would have thrown wine in his face. Pity, I didn't drink. I would have stooped just low enough for such an occasion. My heels clicked in the street when I heard him behind me.

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth!" I felt a hand yank my arm backward so that I was facing its owner. Surprise, surprise, it was Sherlock.

"I can work without John," he said.

I simply stared at him in disbelief. Was this anytime for him to brag about his "astounding abilities?" Yes, I am quoting him directly.

"I worked without John for years solving cases. I don't need him."

"How wonderful for you," I spat. "You can enjoy this wonderful life alone."

I turned to leave, but was yanked back again. I didn't want to look at him, because I loved those blue eyes. I looked in them now. As much as he could fool everyone else, I could read him like a book. In those eyes, all I saw was panic.

"When we became flat mates and he came to the crime scene with me, it was easier to think. He appreciated my work; let me talk dozens of theories out. He looked out for me, saved my life on several occasions. He's the closest thing I have to a brother."

"What about Mycroft?" I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself.

He waved his hand aside. "No physical proof we're related."

"You could easily get a DNA test," came my retort.

"I have neither the time nor inclination to do so."

"Afraid you'd get positive results?"

"I do not fear anything. I simply have a distaste for the mundane."

Sherlock paused and slightly shook his head. He continued, "I don't need John for my work… but I want him. He makes working easier."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was too tired for deduction. Unlike Sherlock, it was not my natural state.

"Why are you telling me this, Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked into my eyes. Damn, those beautiful, lose-yourself-in-them eyes.

"I don't _need_ you in my life. But I want you in my life. You make this life easier… better.

Sherlock held up the ring and looked strangely boyish, which is a feat with his rigid facial bone structure. I waited a second, smiled in spite of myself, and slowly lifted my hand. He smiled back, but only slightly and put the ring on my finger. The cold metal was welcome on my skin, just as this seemingly cold man was welcome in my heart.

"Now that that's settled, I'll drop you off at your flat." His composure had returned. He hailed a taxi and I smiled. Sherlock couldn't be exposed for too long, but the moments he was- I fell in love with him again and again.


End file.
